Heading Straight For The Horizon
by maidmer
Summary: A (slightly) disjointed drabble, set right after Ian and Anthony graduated high school- Anthony gets kicked out of his mom's house. Just fyi, They are both very poor (slightly canon, both have mentioned not having a lot of money before in videos) No slash or ianthony, rated T for language
Before Anthony knew what happened, it was the August after he graduated high school and almost everyone he knew left for college.

It was a few days after his peers vacated the town, when his mom kicked him out.

At least she looked truly sorry as she told him to pack his things and go, because she couldn't afford to feed Matthew if he stayed.

So Anthony calmly gathered his meager possessions and exited his house with not even a backwards glance.

He began to run, his feet slapping the asphalt, taking him somewhere, anywhere but here.

And though he never cared about his stupid place, sprinting past the mailboxes and dark windows of his neighborhood that night was the hardest thing he had ever done.

It was a while before he felt his muscles weaken. Anthony glanced at his watch, and saw that is was 4am, which meant he had been running haphazardly for only half an hour.

Apparently, his subconscious thought he needed to suffer, because he was standing next to the jungle gym. Anthony could remember countless days spent on top of the slide with Ian, making grand plans for the rest of their lives.

Crazy how those days were just a few months ago.

Anthony gripped the nearest steel bar, and pulled his body up, climbing to the top of the play structure. Once sure of himself, he lowered his back onto the cold plastic of the "roof." He could feel all the rage-fueled energy that carried him here seep out of his bones and down, into the ground.

He was just done.

Anthony woke less an hour later, to some idiot knocking on his crappy excuse for a bed.

He rolled to the side, trying to gain his bearings, and forgot he was nine feet off the ground. He fell. Hard.

"Mother FUCKER!" oh god, his shoulder hurt. Sweet virgin Mary that hurts.

Anthony heard footsteps, presumably from the asshole who startled him. Then said unknown assface began to talk.

"Hello? Dude! Anthony, shit man, are you alright?" Oh. It was Ian. Anthony rolled himself onto his back and rubbed his eyes.

"Hi Ian. I'm frigging great." He tried for a smile, but his face twisted into a grimace because of the pain.

Ian stared down at him with a look on his face, halfway between laughing and concern.

"Lemme help you up." Ian reached for his uninjured hand, and took it, tugging Anthony into a seated position.

His stupid friend then cocked his head to the side, and seized Anthony's hurt shoulder, and pushed it in. His shoulder made a terrible pop noise, but Anthony barely heard it.

"SHIT! Aw man, that was bad, that was really really bad." Ian smirked and yanked him up so they could stand together.

Once Anthony was upright, he remembered why he slept on top of a jungle gym in the first place, and felt his throat constrict, choking back tears.

He was a homeless eighteen year old with no skills.

"So, uh, great to see you Anthony- if you don't mind me asking, why were you sleeping on top of the playground equipment? Your mom is going to kill you." Ian was genuinely concerned for his well being, and that made the explanation so much harder.

This wasn't fair.

"Ian, last night my mom told me to leave." Anthony sighed, "And not come back."

To his surprise, Ian began to laugh. And not a small chuckle, a full body, hearty laugh. Anthony just stared at him in disbelief.

Ian continued to cackle for a few moments, before arranging his face into something more somber.

"Dude, you aren't going to believe this, but last night my dad found a stash of weed under my mattress- I'm out too."

Shock flooded Anthony's system, because, apparently, his best friend was kicked out on the same fucking night as him. In the course of twelve hours, both boys had become loners.

This was his chance to make a choice for himself, for the first time in his fucking life.

This was it.

"Ian. IAN- do you realize what's going on? We can finally get out of here!"

Anthony gestured wildly with his hands, trying make Ian understand the significance of this moment. Everything could change.

Yet Ian still looked unimpressed- but he had to make his best friend get it.

"Ian, we can make something of ourselves, live the life we always talked about, run and run and never fucking stop, dude!"

Those words seemed to work. Ian's mouth turned up in a grin, and his limbs were quivering in excitement.  
They were gonna go.

Ian grabbed his wrist and tugged, dashing toward the makeshift parking lot of the school.

When they jumped the chain-link fence, Anthony saw where Ian was leading him.

The Hundai Ian bought for a couple hundred bucks in June. Anthony could feel the puzzle pieces coming together in his head.

"Ian, I brought $1800 cash. We could go NOW."

They locked eyes. Ian smirked.

"Let's get the fuck outta here."

Ian clicked the keys twice, and they slipped into the beat up car.

Anthony was all of a sudden very aware of the heart beating in his chest and the blood flowing through his veins. He was never coming back here.

He could hear the car sputter, then rumble to life.

And when he looked at Ian, the boy's smile was blinding.

Anthony threw his backpack into the back seat, and grinned straight back at his best friend.

Ian flicked the radio on, and turned the volume knob as far as it could go. Shitty rock-metal blasted through the interior of the car, but neither of them cared.

They were making their own choices, forging their own path. Away from everyone who doubted them.

To the two boys, that shitty music sounded like freedom.

Ian slammed his foot on the gas pedal, wheels screeching on the blacktop.

Anthony could see a cloud of grit rising from the ground, as the sedan lurched forward.

The car skidded out of the lot just as the sun peeked over the developments they were leaving behind

And it felt right.


End file.
